


I Could Write a Book

by zornslemon



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-27
Updated: 2014-02-27
Packaged: 2018-01-13 22:21:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1242712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zornslemon/pseuds/zornslemon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Myka really wants to kiss the hot British girl who runs the writing circle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Could Write a Book

Myka squints at the last sentence she typed, highlights it, and deletes it yet again, pressing the backspace key emphatically.

“Hitting a stumbling block, darling?” HG says from her armchair.

“No,” Myka says stubbornly. “Well, yes, but I know how the rest of this scene goes. It’s just this sentence that’s tripping me up. I should probably just write down something and move on, right?”

She looks up nervously, and God, HG is pretty. Which wouldn’t be a problem except that Myka doesn’t even know HG that well. They’re two years apart and in completely different majors, and if HG can charm her classmates half as well as she can charm Myka, she’s probably the most popular girl in the engineering department. The only reason Myka really knows HG at all is that she runs the undergraduate writing circle, and she keeps scheduling write-ins for Friday nights when no one but Myka really bothers to show up.

“You should do whatever works best for your process. I wouldn’t sweat it too much either way,” HG says, and Myka realizes that she’s been staring, which really she needs to stop doing.

“Uh, yeah,” Myka says, turning back to her own computer and typing out another version of the sentence, which, upon rereading, is worded as badly as all the previous versions.

“You look distracted,” HG says. “Long week?”

“I guess,” Myka says, because, okay, she is distracted, but she can’t exactly explain why she’s always distracted at these meetings. “I had a midterm in Nielsen’s class earlier this week.”

“Ah, yes, Artie’s class. Fortunate that he always makes the tests easier than you think they’ll be.”

“I see you’re not distracted,” Myka says, abruptly changing the subject, because she hadn’t found that midterm particularly easy, but HG doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m thinking about including some characters who are robots,” HG muses.

“Are you going to make blueprints for them?” Myka asks. HG always writes these really elaborate steampunk novels where she drew up blueprints for all the technology. It’s seriously impressive.

“The mechanics shouldn’t be too difficult. I’ve already designed some prosthetics, so it shouldn’t be too hard to extend that to a full body. The software will be a little more difficult, I’m afraid. I suppose I’ll have to do some research in artificial intelligence.”

Myka just nods and goes back to her own story, because she’s a good writer, but she doesn’t even know how to respond to HG’s genius without turning into some bumbling, fawning idiot.

She’s in the middle of an actually kind of good bit of dialogue when her phone buzzes with a text from her roommate, who has apparently already found a boy to hook up with and would really like the room until 4 AM. Myka just sighs and sends back a quick text saying “okay”. She doesn’t like staying up too late, but at least the common room where they’re writing is open all night.

“Something wrong?” HG asks, presumably having noticed Myka’s sigh.

“It’s nothing,” Myka says, shaking her head. “It just seems like I’m going to be here a little longer than expected. My roommate kind of needs the room.”

“Ah, have you been, I believe the kids call it ‘sexiled’?” HG says.

Myka nods. “You could say that. I can go back by 4 AM, so it’s no big deal. I can just hang out here, maybe actually get some writing done.”

“Well, I couldn’t leave you alone here,” HG says.

“You don’t have to stick around, even if these couches are comfortable.”

“Well, the alternative would be to go to my room.”

“Oh, well, I guess we could do that,” Myka says, because she’s pretty sure HG’s room is awesome just by virtue of being HG’s room, which doesn’t make sense, because HG lives in the same crappy dorms as the rest of them. Still, if anyone can make a dorm room awesome, Myka’s pretty sure HG can.

“Well, then,” HG says. “It’s nearly midnight, and I doubt anyone’s waiting for us here. I’ll lead the way.”

Myka slips her laptop into her backpack and follows HG.

\---

Myka was right. HG’s room is awesome.

It’s not really that different from any other dorm room (although Myka’s pretty sure HG made some modifications to her desk chair), but HG has hastily scribbled post-it notes all over her desk, and where Myka has posters for BBC miniseries on her wall, HG has blown up versions of her own blueprints, and they’re seriously, seriously impressive. Myka had known that HG was brilliant, but she hadn’t imagined that HG had basically recreated all of modern technology.

She’s staring at what appears to be a really steampunky rocket when HG interrupts her train of thought, saying, “I could never find an energy source for that one. It’s a pity. Modern rocket fuel is too heavy for it to work.”

“Yeah, well, I guess you’ll just need to create your own rocket fuel, then,” Myka jokes, because she’s pretty sure that’s not something that a college student can actually do.

“I’ve been working on it. I came up with a gaseous substance that’s light enough, but it doesn’t last long enough for a real trip,” HG says, and, okay, apparently that wasn’t a joke.

“Here, sit,” HG says, sitting down on her bed and patting the space beside her. “This will give us a lovely chance to talk, since it’s hard to have a good conversation when we’re both absorbed in our writing.”

“Okay,” Myka says, sitting down next to HG. Her leg brushes HG’s, and she scoots over an inch, because the unintentional physical contact is really, really distracting.

“Tell me about yourself, Myka,” HG says, and Myka tries to think of something good to say, because she can’t think of anything that doesn’t sound at least a little pathetic when surrounded by HG’s designs.

“Um, well, I’m a freshman, obviously, majoring in English,” Myka says, trying to sound confident and starting with the things she’s pretty sure HG already knows. “My dad owns a bookstore, so I’m kind of a total classic lit nerd.”

“I suppose that’s how you got into writing,” HG says.

“More or less. I’ve been making up stories since I was a kid. I don’t plan on being published or anything, but I like writing in my spare time,” Myka says. She doesn’t mention that HG and her very convincing pitch was half the reason she joined the writing circle in the first place, because that’s just awkward.

“What are you planning on doing after college? Or I suppose I could ask what do you do with a B.A. in English?” HG asks.

Myka shrugs. “Not sure yet. There’s always grad school, I guess, or I could go back and work at the bookstore. I’m even kind of thinking about doing some sort of government job, something where I can use combat skills. I fence.”

“Ah, I do kempo myself. I suppose then you’d like a career in kicking ass and taking names?”

“I wouldn’t object to one,” Myka says.

“Well, I’d be quite impressed then, although there’s no shame in not knowing what you want to do with your life. Personally, I’d like to try a little bit of everything. Starting with this.”

She leans in to kiss Myka, and Myka barely has time to think about what “a little bit of everything” means before she has to process the fact that HG is actually kissing her.

“You just kissed me,” Myka says one breathless moment later.

“Do you object?” HG says. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me. I apologize if I misanalysed the situation.”

“No, no, you definitely didn’t. Just maybe close the door before this goes any further?” Myka says, looking at the door, which has been propped open by a brick.

“Cheeky,” HG says, but she smiles at Myka as she gets up to move the brick, and Myka can’t help but think that she’ll be the one doing the sexiling soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the college AU square of my Femslash February Trope Bingo card and also because I needed some Bering and Wells fluff after watching the end of season 3. Once again, a million thanks to Attila for betaing this fic and pointing out all my comma errors.


End file.
